Debutante

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Debutante Page 8

by Madeline Moore


  ‘I’ve left Bailey’s,’ said Emily, smoothly cutting him off. ‘That’s my second good news. I’ll be working full time on NAIL until school starts. We have to make initial payments on everybody’s tuition or this whole thing is a waste of time.’

  Luke shook his head. ‘I don’t know, baby.’

  ‘That’s because I haven’t told you the third part of my good news. After I left my apartment last night I went to Beverly Hills, where my stepmom lives. Or lived.’

  ‘Lived?’ Luke gave her a questioning look.

  ‘Bobby’s gone, Luke. Nothin’ there but a stack of bills and a little note that said, “Gone to business meetings. Then home until Christmas.” I’m assuming by “home” she means Brazil.’ Emily looked around the table. ‘Nobody’s living at the big house in the Hills with the swimming pool and the sauna and all those empty bedrooms just waiting for –’

  ‘Movies!’ crowed Tony.

  ‘Fuckin’ right,’ said Emily. She batted her lashes at Luke, probably because he’d told her he got a kick out of hearing her swear. ‘Movies. Production facilities for NAIL and rooms for everyone. Now, there are a few unpaid bills that have to be covered and we’ll have to keep on paying them as long as we’re living there. And we’ve got to get our stuff moved in, somehow. But no more big rents for crappy housing, people. In no time, we’ll be generating income to pay our dues and produce more movies, and so on, and on, and fuckin’ on!’

  Luke stared at her. It was true that he’d gotten a kick out of hearing her utter a four-letter word back when it rarely happened. But these days she was as foul-mouthed as everybody else. Now little Emily, the shy one who needed her own space, had just offered her home to six people at the table and whoever returned in August for a blitz of porn shoots before the start of school. A sharp pang almost made him gasp out loud, but he stifled it in time. Heartache?

  Emily favoured him with a fabulous grin. Clearly, she was proud of the way she’d found a solution to all their problems. Em reached into her pocket and produced the Navajo bracelet. ‘Oh Gods of Film …’ she began, holding the bracelet up.

  ‘Oh Gods of Film …’ chanted the others, between snorts and giggles.

  ‘Smile down upon us …’

  Ouch. There it was again. OK, so he’d had another idea, one that was a lot simpler and involved just the two of them. He’d planned to ask her to come live with him in the house he’d called his home for three years. She could finish her Business degree, get her trust fund and finish film school the following year. Easy. Much, much easier than what was going on now. But it was obviously too late for that.

  Everyone but Luke chattered excitedly. Ideas for scripts and predictions of which students would shortly return and which ones wouldn’t caused the Movie Mob’s table to create the kind of rumble The Muggery had been used to before the tuition hike had stifled their enthusiasm.

  Eric, the owner, brought over a free pitcher of beer. ‘What you kids need is a van. I’ve got one you can have – for a price.’

  ‘Name it,’ challenged Emily.

  ‘I want an executive producer’s credit.’

  ‘For a van? No fuckin’ way, pal,’ she replied.

  ‘You got music?’ Eric nodded at the band on stage. ‘A lot of new bands start out right here. I could get them for a song. Got plenty of demo CDs.’

  ‘Original music would be good,’ piped up Marion.

  Emily shot her a dirty look. ‘I’m the only E.P., Eric. A producer’s credit is possible … if you’ll also consider investing in our prod. co.’

  ‘You drive a hard bargain.’

  Emily drained her mug and held it out for a refill.

  Luke watched as Emily and Eric locked eyes. It was no surprise to him that Eric was the first to cave.

  ‘OK, but … maybe I might like to participate as an actor.’

  ‘I’ll let you know if we ever need an ugly middle-aged guy,’ responded Emily.

  Only Luke noticed the dismay that flashed across Eric’s admittedly unusual face before the bar owner chuckled along with the students.

  Eric patted the front of his jeans. ‘I got a surprise package for you that just might change your mind.’

  The Movie Mob’s hilarity reached a fever pitch.

  Luke sighed.

  ‘You OK, baby?’ Em touched his arm.

  He smiled. ‘Sure. Maybe a little heartburn.’ He pushed the stale pretzels away and sipped his ginger ale. ‘It’s nothing serious. I’m ready to go, though. As soon as you are.’

  Her disappointment showed. ‘Just a little longer? I’m having fun.’

  ‘Come to my place when you’re ready. I’ll be waiting for you there.’

  ‘OK.’ Emily gave him a quick, hard kiss and turned her attention back to the Mob, most of who were peppering her with questions.

  Luke launched himself into the crowd, making a beeline for the front door. Maybe all he really needed was a little fresh air.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Emily was feeling what Bobby called ‘priddy giddy’ by the time she and Marion arrived at the big old house at the edge of campus.

  They each grabbed a mug of water and mounted the stairs. Emily stopped on the second-floor landing while Marion continued climbing to her room on the third.

  ‘G’night, boss,’ she said. She took her free hand from the banister in order to clumsily salute Em and spilled half her water on the floor. ‘Oops. I should clean that up.’ She continued climbing, her free hand once again firmly gripping the banister. ‘Somebody could slip on that and take a terrible fall.’

  Emily quietly opened the door to Luke’s room. She’d expected to find the room dark and Luke fast asleep in his bed. But that was not the case. The room was lit for a shoot. A camera on a tripod was aimed at the bed. Luke was naked but he was lying on top of the covers and he was wide awake.

  ‘Hi, honey, I’m home,’ said Em. ‘I thought you’d be fast asleep.’

  ‘The walk revived me. I set the equipment up before I went to the bar, to surprise you. What do you think?’

  Em tried to choose her words carefully but, though she was far from hammered, she was equally as far from sober.

  ‘I don’t know. It’s … gosh, it’s been a while, huh?’

  ‘Yeah! Take off your clothes, baby. I want you warm and naked and in my bed. Pronto. Spit spot, as my old nanny used to say.’

  ‘Your nanny was Mary Poppins?’ Em stripped. Before she joined him, she took the scarf hanging from the inside doorknob and tied it around the outside knob.

  ‘A kid can dream,’ he replied. ‘Switch the camera on before you get in, OK?’

  ‘Sure.’ Em did as he asked and climbed into bed.

  Luke cuddled her close. He smelled like mint toothpaste and guy soap and Luke.

  ‘You’re so clean!’ She giggled.

  ‘Yeah but I wanna get dirrrrrty,’ he sang.

  ‘You want to do the “Time Warp” again?’

  ‘Oh baby, you bet. See –’ he started dropping warm kisses all over her body, interspersed with words ‘– while I was cleaning up the disaster your people made of your apartment, I started wondering, How did we get into this mess in the first place?’ Kisses, quick and soft as whispers, landed on her cheeks, lips, eyelids and neck. ‘And I remembered it all started right here. Me, recording us, making love.’ Kisses crisscrossed her breasts until his lips found her nipples and his tongue joined the fun. ‘But ever since NAIL began, our private movie shoots stopped. Ironic, don’t you think?’

  Emily nodded. She stroked his thick black hair. ‘You’re so gorgeous,’ she said. ‘You oughta be in movies.’

  ‘Mmm.’ He teased her nipples, still kissing, still licking, but sucking, too. ‘Maybe,’ he said, ‘but I ain’t gonna be.’ His teeth nibbled her blushing nipples to hard nubs.

  ‘No?’ Emily arched her back as sparks of pleasure shot from each flushed tip to deep inside her belly, sending short messages, like tweets, to her clit. ‘Mmm. Feels so good
.’ Probably looks good, too …

  ‘No.’ He lifted his head to look at her. His blue eyes were dark with desire. ‘Except, of course, for our personal viewing.’

  ‘Pity,’ said Em. She grasped his semi-erect cock. ‘Because there’s a lot, right here, that would drive the ladies wild.’

  ‘Too bad for the ladies,’ he replied. He licked a line from her cleavage to her pussy. ‘This is the only pussy I want,’ he said. ‘And I want it wet – oh, how about that? My first wish has already come true.’

  He reached for the jar of Kama Sutra oil and pulled the cork with his teeth.

  ‘Do we need it?’ Emily’s voice was husky. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d made love, never mind the last time they’d recorded it.

  ‘It’s not for you, it’s for me,’ he said. He handed her the bottle. ‘Lube my cock.’

  Emily poured a generous amount of the exotic, spicy oil into her hand. She began to stroke him with long, slow, firm strokes, the way he liked it best.

  ‘Sixty-nine?’ she asked hopefully.

  He shook his head. ‘Roll over, baby,’ he whispered. There was a definite edge to his quiet voice.

  Emily obeyed. ‘Careful?’ She liked it doggy-style but in this position his cock travelled deep inside her and if it hit her cervix hard enough the strange sensation freaked her out.

  Luke took his time arranging his pillows so she was well supported as she knelt up on the bed. He tucked a pillow under her face. ‘Comfy?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said.

  ‘Face the camera, Em. I don’t think we caught your reply.’

  There was most definitely an edge to his voice. Emily turned her face on the pillow and spoke clearly, staring straight into the lens. ‘Yes, Luke, I’m comfy. I’m also really fucking close –’

  ‘Good.’

  Luke knelt behind Emily. He spread her knees wide and began tonguing her pussy in slow, shallow strokes, starting at her clit and sliding, just between her labia, to the bottom of her opening. ‘You’re practically gushing,’ he said. ‘We may make a squirter out of you yet.’

  ‘Uh-huh,’ she said. ‘Fuck, Luke, I’m so close …’

  He sat up suddenly. ‘I want you to stop swearing all the time, Emily. You say “fuck” when we’re fucking, OK? Not in every second sentence that comes out of your lovely mouth. Understand?’

  Emily looked over her shoulder. ‘Are you?’

  ‘Yes.’ Luke replied. ‘You?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  He sat back on his heels, idly sliding one finger the length of her cunt, dipping in a little deeper when he got to her hole but not. Quite. In.

  ‘It’s just … that’s how they talk in The Business. You know?’ she said.

  Luke removed his hand.

  Goddam him! Although … the way he was controlling her was messing with her head and making her cunt actually ache with need.

  ‘Please, baby … please, um, put your big cock in my cunt and …’ She’d been writing this stuff for months and it was still hard for her to talk dirty in bed. Fuck!

  ‘You haven’t answered my question.’

  Emily’s mind went completely blank. The only clarity was in her cunt as short, hard, futile little spasms grasped at nothing. What the fuck was his question, something about squirting or – right! No swearing in public.

  ‘Only in bed!’ she shouted, as triumphant as a game show competitor who’d been first to figure out the right answer. Now give me my prize!

  ‘Good.’

  Luke slipped the head of his cock into her. ‘Remember how hard it was for us to fuck, at first. My big cock and your little pussy hole?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘But see how easy it is, now?’ He fed her hungry cunt another inch.

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘That’s how it’ll be with your ass,’ he said, adding, ‘Mrs Bottomsby.’

  She felt the warm oil dribbling between her ass cheeks. ‘Lukey … oh God … not tonight.’

  ‘You said we could try again,’ he reminded her.

  ‘Lukey … please … I’m so close.’

  ‘I know.’ He dipped to cup her clit with his palm. ‘But if you come now you’re not going to let me even try. I know you, Emily.’

  ‘I’ll try next time.’

  ‘This time.’ He started sliding out of her pussy again but, at the sound of her despairing moan, relented. Instead, he slid smoothly up inside her. At the same time, a finger pressed against the entrance to her ass.

  Emily began to shake. She did not like that finger shoving its way up her ass but she loved, she loved, the way his cock pumped in and out and his palm pressed hard against her clit. Or maybe she did like that finger up her ass. It was moving in rhythm with his cock now, both entrances, empty only moments ago, now full.

  ‘There’s my pretty girl,’ he said. ‘There’s my angel Emily.’

  ‘I love you, Luke,’ she whimpered.

  ‘Ha!’ A second fingertip nudged inside beside the first.

  Emily threw back her head and screamed at the top of her lungs. ‘It hurts!’

  ‘Go with it, Em. You can do it.’ He pushed hard with both fingers.

  ‘No! Stop! Luke!’ Emily’s hands clawed the bedclothes in a futile attempt to escape.

  ‘Christ!’ Luke withdrew the second finger. He matched the rhythm of cock and finger, front and back, and fucked her furiously. ‘Christ on a stick!’

  Emily came as fast and wild as a mistral becomes a sudden storm.

  ‘Ow! Ow! Fuck!’ Emily’s climax was never-ending, which was good because the fat dome of Luke’s cock kept bumping against her cervix and it seemed as if only her paroxysms protected her womb from penetration.

  She knew, probably because of the pressure of his finger up her ass, the moment his cock began to pulse as he peaked, just in time to spare her life. ‘That’s it, Lukey!’ Emily shrieked, spurring him on, urging him to make this messy, mixed-up, fabulous fuck end before it killed her.

  Luke howled. His thick cock shuddered inside Emily. His finger, buried up her bum hole, trembled.

  ‘Oh. Dear. God,’ Emily groaned.

  Luke slid his limp dick from her drowned cunt. His finger slipped from her ass.

  They fell apart, like two halves of a piece of exotic fruit, sliced once by a deadly blade.

  The door opened. Marion stepped into the room. ‘What the fuck?’

  Emily started to laugh, that same laugh that had been with her since she’d been fired. She wiped the tears from her face with a corner of the tangled sheet and tried to cover herself with it.

  ‘Too loud?’ asked Luke.

  ‘Um. Yeah.’ Marion focused on Emily. ‘You OK?’

  Emily could see a few curls of Marion’s bright red pussy hair, peeking out from under a black T-shirt with slut written across it in hot pink letters. She giggled. ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘I’ll have you know,’ said Marion haughtily, ‘I draw the line at snuff films.’

  Luke and Emily clung to each other as they burst into howls of laughter.

  ‘Say, that is good to know!’ Luke managed to get the words out between bursts of laughter. ‘You should put that in writing so we don’t forget.’

  ‘Ha ha.’

  Emily crawled to the camera. She swivelled it towards Marion and pulled focus as best she could. ‘Say it again. Please, Marion!’

  ‘Fuck you.’ Marion gave the camera the finger. The hoity-toity redhead tossed her head in contempt as she turned her back to the couple. This caused her T-shirt to ride up, exposing the swell of her bum. She slammed the door behind her.

  Emily switched the camera off. ‘Pity,’ she said. She turned off the light and cuddled up against Luke, her back to his belly. ‘I’m so fu– I’m so tired.’

  ‘Mmm.’ Luke threw his arm around her waist and spooned her.

  Dark. Silence. Warmth.

  Post-orgasmic bliss.

  Emily sank into sleep like a skipping stone, after the final skip, sinks into t
he sea.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Luke sat in a patio chair, beyond splashing distance from the pool. The Film Department had given him absolute orders to relinquish the University’s equipment immediately or risk being fined.

  Emily sat across from him, yakking on the phone and making notes.

  A few members of the Movie Mob, following Emily’s instruction to drive the neighbours, who’d started frequenting their back yards again since Bobby’s departure, indoors once more, frolicked naked in the pool. Pool Party would be shot as soon as they could be fairly sure there’d be no nosy neighbours spying on their activities. The rest of the newest inhabitants of Beverly Hills ate, slept, steamed or made out in the various rooms of the big house.

  Most of the missing Mob members had returned on 1st August to continue working with NAIL and had been more than happy to move into Bobby’s house. Blaine was a no-show but he’d already provided what they’d needed most from him – the shell company Emily had turned into their prod. co.

  Jimmy, Director of Photography, also didn’t return, but Paul filled the position nicely. Unfortunately, Patricia, who’d been screwing Professor Simmons, was also a no-show. Which was why Luke’s possession of the University’s cameras was no longer being overlooked by the head of the department.

  Luke admired his gorgeous girl. She looked every inch the star in her, well, Bobby’s, Ferragamo sunglasses and Stella McCartney one-piece bandeau bathing suit. He grinned. The things you learn shooting porn … Last year he hadn’t known Paul McCartney’s daughter was a famous designer. Now he liked to think he could pick out one of her creations by the way it draped the body and the ease with which it could be removed.

  Things were going swimmingly. He chuckled out loud. Emily had kicked up a bit of a fuss at his insistence on keeping his room at the house, but he’d held his ground. He wasn’t ready to pull up roots and it wasn’t as if he could change his mind once he left. There was a waiting list for rooms in that house that was longer than a half-hour porn script. Not that a half-hour porn script, even a half-hour NAIL porn script, was all that long.

  Part of Emily’s objection, he suspected, was Marion’s refusal to give up her third-floor attic room.

 

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